The Reporter Chronicles
by Ilara Dumbledore
Summary: you thought the Daily Prophet was a place full of Rita Skeeters? You thought wrong. A newbie reporter and her climb to the top of the assignments list. Some Violence, and more later on in the next chapters.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own few- only the reporter, Kirby, and Mark.

Summary: A soon-to-be series on a single reporter's climb to the top

Thanks to: The Publisher of The Spell Binder for not accepting this, and making me realize it was better fit for ff.net.Thanks to Ryan (Flea), for telling me that I was a great writer, and encouraging me.Thanks to Dee for, even though I insisted upon it, getting me not to quit the Spell Binder.Thanks to Irda, and I swear, girl, we WILL write that fic together, okay?I swear.

Read and Review, now.

The Reporter Chronicles

Prologue: The Last of the Mandarin Men 

By Ilara Dumbledore

I had always thought Chinese Fireballs are not as nasty as they seem. After all, they can share their territory with up to three other of their breed.So they couldn't be that bad.Maybe even a nicer breed of dragon.

Yeah right.That was likely.A nice dragon was about as likely as my brother, Lucius, telling me how great a sister I was.How could I have been so stupid?Dragons are _not_ nice, not even close.

My crew and I (consisting of me, a walking dictionary and a poor photographer) apparated near a small village in China.The place was so nondescript it was almost an anti-village, so we took no notice of it.Our concern was a dragon reported to be residing nearby- a local man insisted this dragon had fried his hut.Of course, to the villagers nearby, the man was quite insane, but I'm one of the newbies to The Daily Prophet- It's not like I was going to be given one of the better assignments.I was one of a hundred "Care of Magical Creatures" Majors.It's not like I was at the top of the assignments list.

We walked the short distance to the hut, the photographer clicking away, and the walking dictionary reading "War and Peace" as he stumbled around.Once in a while he would look up and make sure he wasn't going to break his nose by walking into a tree, then look back down again.

I attempted to make small talk, but to no avail- the photographer just grunted, crouching around a non-descript fern, and the walking dictionary looked up long enough to tell me I was spoiling the book for him.

I sneered and turned back to walking, wondering again whether or not to ask the man we were going to visit if "he described himself as crazy."I never was good at interviews.

When we got to the burned-down hut, we turned left and saw a cloak propped up on sticks.I sighed and straightened my cloak, hoping against hope it would be done soon.We found the man sitting near a fire.He motioned us closer, and I was at a loss when he began to speak.

"Er…" The man was making erratic gestures, obviously telling a story, but I couldn't understand a word he said.I leaned over to the photographer."You understand a word he's saying?"

"You were supposed to hire a translator!I thought it was him!" The photographer said, pointing to the human dictionary (I still had yet to learn his name).

I swore under my breath."He is supposed to be a translator!" I looked to the dictionary man.

"It's Mandarin." Said the dictionary-man superiorly.

"Can you translate?!" I hissed.

"No.I specialize in German and French, not-"

"THEN SHUT UP!" I yelled.The Mandarin- speaking Chinese man stopped and looked at me.

"Er…Can you, ey speak-ey, English-ey?"

"He's not Pig Latin-ese, he's Chinese!" Muttered the photographer.

"Shut up!I'm your boss right now, so shut up!" I was still in control.I still had control over the situation.Well, I was telling myself I did.

"DO YOU-KNOW WHERE- THE DRAGON-IS?" I yelled at the Chinese man.This continued for several minutes- me, yelling at the Chinese man, the photographer making snide comments and the Dictionary-man looking superior about the whole situation.Only after about ten minutes of yelling at the Chinese man, I finally acted like a dragon- flapping my wings, roaring, and pointing at the fire.This he understood, and responded by yelling and pointing to the north.

"Thank you!" I muttered, and headed off to the north.I emitted a smiley face from my wand, and that seemed to appease the man.

I decided to discover the names of my crew.They had been stuck with me due to some strange choosing method, and I wanted to call them something other than "photographer", and "dictionary man".The walking dictionary's name turned out to be Kirby, and the photographer, of whom had revealed his name to be Mark, had a good laugh at this."Kirby?As in, the pink guy in videogames?!" Laughed the photographer. Luckily, Kirby had never seen a videogame in his life, and we were only given an angry look.

We happened upon a cave, and there were enough scorch marks around the entrance to make us uneasy.We exchanged nervous glances as I took out a stick with Chinese symbols upon it.Obviously, it was one of the few things that Kirby knew nothing about.

"What is that thing?" He asked.

I explained in a whisper."The Chinese characters carved in it is a spell- it detects Chinese Fireballs by their magical presence.It takes a bit to work, so shut up." 

Kirby nodded and whispered, "I knew that." I kicked him in the shin and glared at him long enough to entice him to be silent.The rod in my hand suddenly played a single high C, and I grinned. 

They had thought there would be no unregistered dragon.The people at my newspaper had called me foolish, that I shouldn't have taken the assignment.But filing was not my job- I was a reporter.I wasn't meant to be sorting the files on various Magical Creatures.I was meant to be here- in danger and terrified out of my wits.

I put the rod in my cloak pocket and motioned to the photographer.He looked terrified.Gone was his sarcasm and dry humor- He looked close to wetting his pants.I crept into the den of the dragon, keeping low to the ground and avoiding stepping on the skeletons of long-dead animals.The photographer took a picture of them shakily, and glanced at me, mouthing, "Is this a good idea?" in the dim moonlight streaming in through the entrance.I nodded mutely, and walked slowly towards the back of the cave, wand at ready.We came to a large cavern, and saw a great, beautiful Chinese Fireball.

It was majestic in it simple, dangerous beauty.It was a deep, smooth crimson, with golden spikes around its face.It seemed to stir when Mark gasped, and I instantly covered his mouth with my hand.I grabbed the camera from his shaking hand, and took a few pictures.On the last clicking noise from the camera, the dragon started, and we stared into its dark, golden framed face.We stood there for a moment, Mark and I looking into the face of death when I screamed "RUN!"

I whipped around and ran towards the entrance, Mark close behind.I didn't dare try a Stunner- in this close proximity it could hit Mark or I, and being unconscious in a Dragon's den was not very good.We ran, a mushroom cloud of flame following us.We stumbled out of the entrance, Mark cradling a burn on the back of his bare arm, and my cloak on fire.I rolled in the dirt, screaming like mad.Mark dived into the bushes, safe, but a millisecond after I put the fire out and stood, the dragon cleared the entrance to the cave.

I drew my wand and yelled Stupefy, having no effect on the dragon.I screamed for my crew to yell "Stupefy" on my count, and on three, we all screamed the spell.The dragon stopped, dazed, and I bolted into the bushes where Mark had hidden.I curled up and waited in the dark for the dragon to blow fire at the bushes, but the dragon stomped off in the other direction.I breathed a sigh of relief and started laughing.

Mark gave me an odd look and began to laugh himself.Kirby stared at us from our left, and then began to laugh as well.It was the laughing of desperation mixed with joy coinciding with a dark humor.We leaned on each other, not friends, not enemies, but somewhere in between.


	2. Ch.1 The Diricrawl and the Dark Mark

I'll tell you right now I didn't want this to be that dark, or this personal

I'll tell you right now I didn't want this to be that dark, or this personal.I had meant for this series to not go into the reporters past, and to simply state the facts of her travels.It has become more personal, and I must say, even though it's not what I wanted it to be, this is turning out almost okay.

R & R,ya' all.

The Reporter Chronicles

Chaper One: The Diricrawl and the Dark Mark

By: Ilara Dumbledore

Kirby and I were getting along nicely, and although I had a constant urge to kill him, he was useful in translations (Not Mandarin, of course, as I had learned back in China), for he had a good understanding of German, and knew more French vocabulary than I.He helped me with my article for the Chinese Fireball, always speaking in a superior tone, but nonetheless helpful.The day I sent in the article on the Chinese Fireball for the Magical Creatures section of The Daily Prophet was a great day indeed.Kirby took me out to dinner, and I got an inkling he was beginning to fancy me.He was twenty years older than me, and I wasn't the type to date much-older men, so I politely ignored his advances.

I was assigned a new photographer and given a relatively easy assignment- find out if the diricrawls were being sighted by muggles again.It was tedious job including muggle interviewing, and I was not looking forward to asking miscellaneous people if they had spotted diri-no, dodos, as the muggles called them.I was not looking forward to it.Who cared about the diricrawls?Shouldn't the Muggle P.R. Department be handling this?When I voiced this to Kirby, he simply laughed and told me that I wasn't exactly a star reporter.Oh, I hate it when he rubs that in.

So the photographer, Kirby, and I met at the office on a dreary Monday morning.The photographer was nicer than the last one, Mark, and had a good portfolio.I heard the men in the Daily Prophet didn't like to work with him because he was very openly gay, but that didn't matter to me, being a girl.Kirby kept his distance, though the photographer (Dave, he said his name was) seemed to not be interested in Kirby.Dave complimented my outfit as we walked to the disapparation point.

"A perfect blend of black and green.I assume you were a Slytherin in Hogwarts?"

I nodded and pulled out my wand, seeing as we were close to the disapparation point.Dave flinched before realizing why I was pulling out my wand.He laughed throatily."Anyways," He said, withdrawing his own wand, "I think I met you in Hogwarts.I was a third year Hufflepuff when you graduated."

I squinted.He didn't look that young.I shrugged."Don't remember you.Sorry." I didn't really care, but an apology seemed to be a good idea in this situation.

He smiled and attempted to engage me in conversation."Yeah, I always thought you Slytherins would end up in Azkaban!But I was wrong- You really are an okay bunch."

I gritted my teeth and reflexively glanced at my left arm where the Dark Mark lay.It had been years since Harry Potter had vanquished Voldemort, but I couldn't help feeling terrified at the thought of him.

I was halfway through my second year at Hogwarts when my father had brought me to Voldemort.My father, a man indifferent of his daughter's cares and woes, told me that since my brother, Lucius swore to Voldemort, so would I.Of course, he never called him Voldemort.I hadn't then either, with fear circulating throughout the wizarding world like a poison.I screamed as the tattoo was burned into my arm, and sobbed for my dead mother.I came back to Hogwarts terrified and pale, and fainted in the common room.A seventh year, entering the common room later that night, had found me there, curled into the fetal position, sobbing.He was the same age as my brother, and his name was Severus.He comforted me and brought me to my dorm when I fell asleep in his arms.We never spoke of that night, but we became friends.When he graduated that June I was worried for myself- what if it happened again?What if I had no one to comfort me in the dark, cold nights in the dank Slytherin dungeon?He was all I had to lean on.I had no close friends back then, and he really did understand me, Severus.

Two years later, though, Voldemort disappeared on Halloween, and my father swore he'd never done anything willingly.I attended his trial and looked deep into his eyes.I _knew _he was lying.I had the scars and memories to prove it.But I couldn't- wouldn't- stand against him.I was barely fourteen, how could I?Even at fourteen, I understood evil like no one should, and I was afraid to wear tank tops like normal girls out of fear people would see the tattoo.Even after it faded, I continued to wear long sleeved robes.And now…now it was coming back.

I wanted to scream in frustration.Why on earth would it be coming back?I had checked it the other night, and still, it was darker, almost as black as it had been the nights he killed the Prewetts.I shivered as I thought of their name- I had been there.

Do you understand?I was _there_. I watched as the rebellious light faded from their eyes!I screamed the killing curse at their daughter, who was my age.I was _thirteen_ when I killed her.Thirteen!I should have been playing with my friends, riding broomsticks and trying out cosmetic spells, but no!I was murdering a girl my own age!It was one of the few murders I committed, and I remember them all.Their faces, their screams, I remember them all- they will never leave me.

I snapped back to reality.Honestly, what had come over me?I never remembered those days.It was a rule I had made for myself to never, ever think of them, but I had.

"Are you okay?" Asked the ex-Hufflepuff, Dave.

Am I okay?I'll never be okay.I threw those thoughts away- really, they were finished.I hadn't done them of my own will, so it really hadn't been my fault…but oh, how it felt like it was when I dreamed of their screams.I gave a weak smile and stepped onto the disapparation platform, truning to Dave."Of course I'm okay."

***

We arrived in Mauritus, an island south of India.This is where the first Dodos, back in the 1600's were spotted by Dutch muggles.I was bored out of my mind and interviewed a quite insane man- Then went to search for the dodos.I knew the dodos were alive, and that their real name was the diricrawl.I knew they weren't extinct, and so did the rest of the wizarding public.The story of the diricrawl is actually quite boring- their only magical attribute is the ability to disappear in a burst of feathers.

As we walked to one of the areas that the dodos (diricrawls) had been reported spotted, I was worried again.When I had remembered that night so many years ago when I had been given the Dark Mark, I remembered that Voldemort had claimed he would never die.If it was true, it meant he would be coming back from wherever he had been, with even more ambition and need to kill.The Wizarding World had enough trouble with Sirius Black escaping last year, why on Earth did he have to come back now?

I sighed and listened to the idle conversation going on between Kirby and Dave.They had both been Hufflepuffs in school, it seemed, and I was left with my dark thoughts of Voldemort.The Dark Mark had been set off so many months ago at the Quidditch World Cup, could he have done it?No…The tattoo hadn't been this dark then.But what about-

My thoughts were cut off as I seized my left arm painfully._Oh God…Oh God…No!_The burning.It only meant one thing.I had to apparate to him or die!What was I going to do?!

I halted and turned to Kirby and Dave.They had no idea what was going on!Not a clue!They didn't know that throughout the world, Death Eaters are apparating to Britain right now…

The two of them noticed that I had halted."What is it?" They asked at the same time.

"Go get yourselves a drink.The Diricrawls rarely are out at night, really, we should go back to that hotel assigned to us and wait until morning.I am going to visit a relative I have nearby, then I'll meet you there, back at that hotel." This was a lie, of course.I hoped they didn't see through it.

Kirby smiled and laughed, patting my shoulder."All right then, Mia." I almost shuddered as he said my name.How could he say it without hate, the way I did every time I said it when I looked into the mirror? "Come on then, Dave, I'll buy you a butterbeer!" Kirby said, nidding at me. They headed off happily, laughing.

I didn't see how they could laugh and nod so easily.Lucky Hufflepuffs, really…I had always looked down on them and now I envied them.A coldness encircled my stomach as I withdrew my wand.I struggled against my terror and I closed my eyes, took a deep breath…and apparated.


End file.
